TOW The Angry Sex
by itsafour
Summary: If Monica wasn't faking her good, forgiving mood, she would make a show of rolling her eyes at him. - This is my take on the whole Monica tricking Chandler into bed thing, that happened on The One With Phoebe's Birthday Dinner. Season 9, married smut.


_**Author's note: Oh man I imagined this scene way too often in my mind hahah so I decided to put it out the way I believe it most likely happened. I hope it's good!**_

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"Let's celebrate life!" He practically shouted.

If Monica wasn't faking her good, forgiving mood, she would make a show of rolling her eyes at him.

Didn't he understand why she was mad? Was he even sorry?

They got to their bed to take the covers away. She looked discretely at him, almost laughing at herself thinking about his Mr. Sensitivity moment just two seconds before and comparing it to how excited he looked now, as if he were a little puppy or something. She almost felt the image was endearing, but she was mad! She wouldn't let herself be swept away (again!) like that.

No covers on the bed, she lied on her back, almost out of spite, expecting him to have a little more extra work, which he either didn't notice or didn't seem to faze him at all. He lied down on his side, and with his hand he softly touched her face – this sweet behavior was like a sudden switch from the bumpy excited all over the place man he was just before – and then he kissed her.

Ah, those kisses. She especially loved those ones that came right before their session of intense sex. They were sweet and passionate at the same time, and they usually just took her breath away.

Oh, well. She wasn't breathing properly anymore.

Between kisses he managed to finally take that damn tie off, and he was already taking off his shirt when he got on top of her.

She was still mad. She had to still be mad. He shouldn't have smoked! They were trying to have a baby, for god's sake. Why would he willing compromise his health like this? Oh God there he goes, this feels so good.

Her mind was a huge bowl in which she was mixing ingredients that really didn't go together – or maybe they did, people say angry sex is great sex.

He was kissing her and using his hands to touch her body thoroughly. His right hand slid between their bodies and he softly touched her labia, making room for his fingers to play around that area.

Oh that's it, I don't think I can be mad at him anymore. No, actually, no! I can be mad, I should be mad! What if he got sick because of the smoking? What if he died? Is he really okay with leaving our little family like this? (Okay, they didn't have a baby now, but they would be a family soon!) Is he okay with leaving me? Ooooh, that's good.

Chandler had kissed her neck and collarbones with the utmost dedication and was now directing his attention to his double task at the moment: one, suck on her nipples slowly while, two, he played with her genitalia, using his fingers. Still working on her breasts, he slid one finger in, followed by another one, and at this point Monica was having a lot of problems even remembering why she was mad in the first place.

She wasn't really ready to let that go though! She's nagged so much all over the years about the smoking! He shouldn't be doing that at all. If he could do something she hated so much behind her back just because he was away, what else would he— OH! Oh, oh my god!

She didn't even know how, for she was a mess of mixed feelings, both in her mind and on her body, but he got there. He was down there, his tongue already licking her slowly, and she even thought about being silent in bed for once, just to spite him a little, make him doubt himself maybe, but she couldn't do something like that to him. (Also, she decided, oh well screw it, I have the right to enjoy this as much as possible so I'm not holding back.)

His arms were stretching, reaching for her breasts, massaging them and pinching her nipples every now and then while his head rested between her legs. He loved making her come first, so she knew he would only get out of that position after her orgasm. Well, she wouldn't really complain. She even had the right to not let him come! Oh, if they weren't trying to have a baby, he would see! She would definitely leave him high and dry, blue balls and everything. He deserved something like that for risking himself over cigarettes. Didn't he understand how important he was to her? Did he think it was easy for her to know that he was doing something so bad to that body she loved so much? His body was not only his anymore! It belonged to both of them, so he should know better than to treat it like this, inhaling bad stuff, giving himself chances of getting ill for like no reason at all, this was so—Oh! Oh, oh, oh, there was it. Oh, my God, that was good.

She moved her hands to his head, grabbing a handful of hair, tugging it so hard, twitching her body shamelessly as she came.

He took that as his cue, and got over her again, grabbing her now little shaky legs and putting them around his waist. His eyes were pure lust, he was breathing really hard, and he was butt naked – she hadn't even noticed when he took off his pants, but it didn't matter. He slid into her, groaning so close to her ears she felt her stomach do somersaults. Ugh, he could be so hot during sex, she couldn't even take it.

He started moving slowly, and soon moving steadily, and soon after pounding into her very hard. She wouldn't have it any other way.

She was still so… Oh, God… so… jesus… so mad… ooooh, at him! For smoking!

Her mind was blank, her second orgasm hitting her like a truck, followed by his own orgasm. The fact they were trying to have a baby allowed her to feel him shoot his little guys into her, and it weirdly felt so good too.

"Aaaah... you are welcome."

Seriously?

"You know what, let's not talk!"


End file.
